


The Hanged Man

by SanctuaryTrin



Category: Jynnic - Fandom, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: And a Lot of Sin, F/M, Little Bit of Blood Involved, Succubus!Jyn and Priest!Krennic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 23:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8305811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SanctuaryTrin/pseuds/SanctuaryTrin
Summary: The prompt was Succubus!Jyn and Priest!Krennic.





	

It was said in medieval times that cats’ eyes glowed because they had the devil in them. 

 

Her eyes have a strange radiance as well. He catches it, fleetingly, as his gaze sweeps over her during the service. His gaze returns to her often. 

She has brown hair that gleams crimson in the light of the stained glass, for she always sits in the same spot, under a swath of blood red, in the second pew from the front. She is only a child, really. Nineteen or twenty, but her eyes are so wide. She takes communion from him with those wide, shining eyes and it is all he can do to stop himself from putting his thumb into her mouth and feeling the scrape of her front teeth against it. 

 

Then he thinks about offering everything he has to her mouth, and he cannot stop. 

 

He speaks to the newcomer as she leaves. 

“Jyn Erso.” 

You are most welcome. Please feel free to come to me if you need any help or advice. You are most welcome, Jyn. 

Her eyes flash green yellow and she smiles before turning away from him. His mouth feels dry and his chest hurts. 

 

He sleeps. 

He feels suspended. 

 

In some dimly lit corner of his mind he knows her name is Jyn, yet this girl is different, this girl of fire. It starts with the scent of myrrh. A sacred scent, yet somehow made profane by her. 

He is suspended and she suspends herself over him until he begs for her in his mind. Her lips brush his and he tastes her breath. When she kisses him his blood responds in a rush, blooming out toward his extremities so he is left delirious and rigid with desire. 

She sweeps her little hands down his body and fire opal colors run in streams under his skin where she touches him. Prayers fall from his lips in gushing, desperate babbles and he realizes that he is praying to her. 

She stops his prayers with her mouth and nips at his lower lip, drawing blood. It’s the taste of blood that gets her so wet and so ready. 

She mounts him, taking his hands in hers and sweeping them down her body. Her flesh is glassy smooth but the skin on her nipples is even softer. She urges him to pluck at them until the tips are firm and reddish and his cock is already full to bursting. 

She takes his cock in her hand and rubs it against her fiery slit and he is begging and praying and pleading until she impales herself with a wicked little gasp. The girl is resinous, hot, melting upon him while he is helpless beneath her. He feels bound and drugged and profoundly grateful. 

She plants her hands on his chest and rides him at an agonizingly slow pace. He tries to thrust up into her and increase the speed but she scratches his chest and leans down, taking his nipple in between her teeth and biting until he is chastened. 

Forgive me, Jyn. Forgive me. 

She sits up and smiles and rides him harder, faster. His hands clutch at her hips, fingers digging into flesh as her cunt pulses around him. He tips his head back and cannot believe the rasping, husky moans that she tears from his throat. She’s so tight she’ll kill him. He is suffocating and he adores her, held within her clenched fist and squeezed until the blood runs. She gasps and licks her bloodstained fingertips and the beads of red from the scratches on his chest and he cannot hold on any longer. He comes violently and her little cunt is like a flame licking around his cock as he shoots into her. 

 

The sheets are stained red and drenched in her scent so he wraps himself in them, naked, shaking. He rocks himself back and forth, his hands over his face and her scent on his palms. He can wait until Sunday. He must wait. He must survive until Sunday when he can see her again. 

 

She is prim, dressed in charcoal and cream and brown, hair neatly combed and smooth. Hands folded in her lap. Her full lower lip glistens with communion wine. Why doesn’t she lick it off? No, dear God. Seeing her tongue would torture him even more. Only hours ago her little cunt tugged the cum from his cock and now she sits perfectly still, all smooth shiny hair and glistening lips, victorious and smug.

 

The moon shines through his window. He kneels before her. Myrrh curls around him in a red gold haze and he responds. 

He knows what is expected of him, so he lies down on the bed, limbs growing heavy, cock lifted and straining. She climbs over him and he is desperate for the taste of her. She is merciful. She places her slit over his mouth and he clutches at her and licks and sucks until his mouth is full of sap and myrrh and fire. 

She murmurs strange words to him sometimes, words that make him ravenous, words that scatter all reason like sand in a windstorm. Her words morph into moans as she fucks his tongue and he licks and searches and finds her clit and sucks hard and she comes in a molten rush, drowning him in pleasure and fragrance and fire. 

If he were a saint, he would fight her. He would grab her by the wrists and deny her and cast her out, not revel in the smallness of her wrists in his hands as he pins her down and drives into the fiery wetness between her legs. He wouldn’t let her whisper filthy things to him. He would silence her. But instead he inhales her hot breath as she orders him to fuck her and feed her his blood and his seed and he does. He gives her everything she demands. She scratches open his flesh and sucks and she puts her mouth on his cock and swallows and he has never seen anything so beautiful as the smear of red and white that glistens on her lips. 

 

Her mouth opens to receive the Eucharist. Her tongue feels pillowy as he presses down slightly. Something registers in her eyes but he reassures her silently.

I am yours. Let me come again in your mouth tonight. I’ll give you all of it. Please Jyn I beg you. Drain me completely, I have so much for you. It’s all yours. 

He touches her little hand as she’s leaving.

Thank you for coming, Jyn. Thank you thank you.  

 

Oh, her mouth her mouth. Her lips wet and parting over the swollen head of his cock. She closes her lips around the ridge and tugs up so that he makes a low, obscene growl. She is crouched, her sex inches away from his face, but he is only allowed tastes from her while she feeds, so he uses his fingers to sweep down her slit and dip into her soaking wet cunt, then he licks and sucks her juices from his fingers greedily.  Her tongue laps at his cock, flickering around that little spot just under the ridge and he bucks and moans, his fingers still in his mouth. She takes him down deep and he hits the back of her silky throat and he can feel the tightening take hold of him until he is panting. He tries to lift himself up and bury his face in her cunt but she sucks hard and wraps her little soft hand around the base and he falls back and pumps into her and she sucks and drinks and all he can see are luminous streams of hot, liquid color across his closed eyes. 

 

The day is cloudy and her hair is less red because of it. She has a little collar on with a somber black bow, and her eyes are heavy lidded and dim. His hand trembles as he holds out the wine and he almost spills it  “Are you alright, Father?” Yes yes please don’t trouble. 

He takes a deep, shaking breath. A note of myrrh in the incense plucks at his sensory core. No, not in the incense, in the chapel. He looks around wildly, finds her. She’s sitting, hands folded in her lap, eyes wide and wet. He walks toward her. How is it possible for her eyes to get even wider? Her lips are parting for him, she knows he comes for her. She knows he is a good servant. He reaches her and she stands. Why does she look confused? He knows what she wants, he has never disappointed her. He leans in close and can smell her breath and her eyes flash green and yellow because she’s begging him to fuck her and his cock is painfully hard and straining and he reaches for her and clutches her fiery hair and he will bleed for her and come for her because that’s how she likes it and he hears the girl scream and scream and scream for help and he feels hands upon him that aren’t her little hands but are huge knotted clutching hands and he is dragged down to the stones and she is gone she is gone she is gone she is taken away from him and all is cold stone and vile righteous hands and wretched male voices and please Jyn hear me Jyn I pray to you Jyn Jyn Jyn 

**Author's Note:**

> Note on Style: Yes, it's purposefully strange and dream-like and stream of consciousness-y . ...hopefully ;) 
> 
> This one was super fun to write.


End file.
